


To Keep You Inside

by AirgiodSLV



Category: Shades of Magic - V. E. Schwab
Genre: F/M, M/M, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 15:43:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16997871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AirgiodSLV/pseuds/AirgiodSLV
Summary: “Kell is my brother, and a prince of House Maresh. Alucard is…” Rhy paused, as if only just realizing that Alucard didn’t have a similar title. “...my champion.”In which there is a homecoming, a duel, and a secret.





	To Keep You Inside

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QueenWithABeeThrone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenWithABeeThrone/gifts).



> For QueenWithABeeThrone, who asked for more of this world's magic system and a wedding on the beach. This may have gone considerably astray from that request, but it was always for you.
> 
> Thank you to Linny and cupiscent for their beta reading and endless support.
> 
> This is a work of fiction, no disrespect intended.
> 
> Contains spoilers through _A Conjuring of Light_.

_I never breathe the air without you_  
_Somehow entering my mind_  
_I only breathe the air to keep you inside_  
_So you would always be mine_

_\- Everybody Knows, Jukebox the Ghost_

☙

“I thought I’d made it clear,” said Rhy Maresh, King of Arnes, “how I felt about others sharing your bed.”

Alucard’s eyes lifted from the page he was reading, and drifted to the ball of white fluff curled up on the pillow beside him, sleepily blinking violet eyes.

“In fairness,” Alucard replied, raising an eyebrow, “she’s only here for you. It’s not _my_ bed she finds so appealing. And I can’t fault her taste.”

Rhy stalked up to the foot of the bed, pausing to pose there under Alucard’s appreciative gaze. “I didn’t mean the cat,” he said crisply. “I meant the _book_.”

Alucard’s lips curled up. He raised a thumb to his mouth, deliberately licked its tip, and turned a page.

Rhy growled, plucked the book from Alucard’s playfully-resisting hands, and flung himself onto the bed. He only narrowly missed displacing Esa, who rose and leapt delicately from the bed a moment later to demonstrate her annoyance.

The canopy above him bloomed with color; gold and red, deep midnight blue. He hadn’t changed his bedclothes when he’d moved to his father’s rooms, the king’s chambers. He’d considered it, until he’d realized the colors stood for more than the breaking day. There was royal ruby, the color of London’s river and its monarchy, and Rhy’s own favored gold, chosen often to match his pale amber eyes. And there was the rich blue that looked nearly black in certain light, the first herald of the dawn. An Emery color. Alucard’s color.

The colorful draperies were blotted out now by Alucard himself, looming over Rhy on one elbow, his other hand - now freed of literature - settling on Rhy’s chest.

“For someone so determined to have my attention,” Alucard remarked, “you don’t seem intent on keeping it.”

“I was just thinking of colors,” Rhy told him, tracing along the collar of Alucard’s loose-tied shirt. “And what we’ll wear for the _Essen Tasch_.”

Alucard’s eyebrow arched again, the sapphire winking on his brow. Rhy had thought of dressing Alucard in red and gold to complement his own attire, but there was the sapphire, which couldn’t be so easily disguised.

And then there was the silver threaded through Alucard’s veins, the visible mark left by Osaron’s magic, which had claimed so many of Rhy’s people. There were other scars, other wounds, but those weren’t as easy to see.

Rhy’s were carried in his heart. His father and mother. Kell. Rhy’s own, second death.

Alucard’s fingers slipped into the opening of Rhy’s jacket, his hand spreading warm over Rhy’s chest. “You can’t tell me you only plan to wear _one_ outfit, for the entire affair.”

Rhy scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I plan to wear a different hat every day.”

Alucard’s mouth followed his fingers, hot above Rhy’s collar, shifting jacket and collar aside until his lips grazed Rhy’s pulse. “And what of me? Are you redesigning my banner in your own colors?”

Rhy sighed and made a token effort to pull Alucard away, not at all surprised when Alucard resisted. He was reluctant to speak, but found no way around it. “Tieren says you cannot compete. That it would be too much a show of the king’s favor.”

To his surprise, there was a smile in Alucard’s reply. “Oh? Am I the king’s favorite, then?”

Rhy twisted away, his hands knotting in Alucard’s hair to pull him back and into view. He frowned at the expression he saw there. “You knew?”

“Of course.” Alucard’s hands didn’t cease their wandering, undoing more of Rhy’s garments as he went. “I spoke with Master Tieren when it was time for the auditions. He told me you were determined to have me as King’s Champion, and that he was concerned it might tip the balance.”

Rhy sighed, but let himself be coaxed away from the discussion by a lingering kiss, and the warmth of Alucard’s hands pushing the jacket from his shoulders and drawing the shirt over his head.

“I’m still determined to have you,” Rhy informed him when they settled again, skin to skin above the waist, where Alucard’s hand curled possessively at his hip.

Alucard’s look was arch. “You only have to ask.”

Rhy laughed, and took a kiss from Alucard’s smiling mouth. “Not like that. I was thinking...a ceremonial position.”

Alucard’s attentive silence prompted him to go on, and Rhy fought unaccustomed nerves as he held his own tongue until Alucard finally broke. “What position would that be?”

“That is for me to know,” Rhy told him loftily, pleased when Alucard responded with a sharp bite at his collarbone, Rhy’s fingers tightening where they threaded through bright, brassy hair as he gasped. “State secrets. To be shared at my discretion.”

“I have ways to convince you,” said Alucard, his lips now below Rhy’s ear, seeking out his pulse.

“You can try,” Rhy returned, breathless.

“I will,” Alucard said, and was making good on his promise when Rhy felt a flutter in his chest that wasn’t due to Alucard’s presence in his bed--the slight easing of a line long pulled taut.

“Kell,” Rhy gasped.

Alucard lifted his head sharply. “No…” he began, but Rhy shook his head to cut him off, laughter rising buoyant in his chest.

“My brother’s coming home.”

☙

Kell stood on the deck of the _Night Spire_ and looked out on the dark ocean. He heard more than saw it, waves splashing against the hull and the faint snap of canvas above his head.

Three years. Kell had been gone now for three years.

He’d meant to come home before this, had even gotten close a few times, but there had always been some new journey, another horizon stretching out across the sea. He’d written to Rhy, posted letters with news of his travels, but they’d been few and far between. In Rhy’s replies, Kell always got the sense that Rhy was pained only to read of adventures, never to share them.

Never to leave London.

It was a fate Kell had shared, once, until the deaths of King Maxim and Queen Emira. Until Rhy, new to his kingship, had told Kell to be selfish for once, and see the world.

Kell had the feeling that Rhy had expected to see his brother long before this.

He’d felt guilty at missing Rhy’s birthday, the first year after he’d been crowned king. Rhy had written to him about the parties, the gifts, but there had been an undercurrent of meaning between the lines, an unspoken question. _Why weren’t you here?_

He’d felt less guilty the second year, due to circumstances and timing, and the fact that he’d missed it once already. The third year, _this_ year, he’d nearly done it, nearly returned to port and given up his traveling. He knew Rhy wouldn’t want to let him go again once he’d come back - not so soon, not far - and Kell hadn’t been able to bring himself to give up his last taste of freedom.

He would return, however, for the _Essen Tasch_.

It wasn’t only about wanting to be there for the competition, to see the best magicians in the kingdom put on a display unlike any other. It was the knowledge that Arnes would host two other countries, and while Faro remained an ally publicly and in private, Vesk was another matter.

Kell wouldn’t leave Rhy alone to face the royalty of Vesk. The last time he had, Queen Emira had died, and if he’d been able to do the same, Rhy would have joined her.

Kell had heard news and gossip during his three years at sea, collected in ports across Arnes. It usually only served to make him wonder what the truth of the stories was, and what decisions Rhy made behind the doors of the Red Palace, which became something else after they reached London beyond.

Kell should have been at his side long before this. There was a part of him, however, that whispered that so long as the bond between them held, Kell was free to go as far as the wind and the currents could carry him.

He reached out now at the thought, feeling along the tether of magic that connected him to Rhy. It had grown taut, stretched tight across the distance, but had never wavered. Never broken.

It might have been Kell’s imagination, but he thought that he felt it grow slack, as he stood there on the deck, looking ahead into the dark toward London. Some of the pressure eased, and he leaned into his awareness of Rhy, the shared emotions that had become as familiar to Kell as his own.

Sometimes, Kell wasn't aware of Rhy at all, and often only as an echoed heartbeat. Other times, when Kell's mind was particularly quiet and Rhy's was particularly _unquiet_ , he could sense more. Stress, irritation, exhaustion. The burdens of kingship. Guilt pulled at Kell, those times, so much that he nearly turned back. But then his guilt would be Rhy's, so he stayed his course, trusting that Rhy would call for Kell if he was needed.

And some times, rare times, it wasn't Rhy's _mind_ that was unquiet.

He heard Lila before he saw her, which meant that she’d _let_ him hear her, creeping up from the cabins below. She came to the rail and stood beside him, but unlike Kell, her gaze wasn’t fixed on the darkness of the night. It was fixed on _him_.

He knew that she could see his tension, Kell gripping the rail white-knuckled as Rhy crashed through his mind and body like the waves below.

Lila studied him, waiting, until Kell unclenched his jaw and said, "Rhy," by way of explanation. “We’re getting closer to London.”

Kell hoped she'd interpret his reaction as pain, or worry, but she knew him better by now.

"Does Alucard know he's having two princes, and not just one?" Lila asked.

Kell turned on her, fists clenched. " _Alucard..._ "

He got no further--Lila was suddenly there, swift as wind, surprising him into silence. Her mouth was against his, swallowing the rest of his words.

"Just reclaiming what's mine," she told him when they broke apart--a thief's answer. She led him to their cabin below, and a few minutes later, Kell was no longer aware of Rhy at all.

☙

Kell had hoped to reach Rhy’s rooms without any incident, using a combination of stealth and secret passages within the palace. He’d made it all the way to the door when those hopes were dashed.

“Kell,” Alucard greeted him from his post in front of Rhy’s doors. “What a surprise.”

Kell gritted his teeth. Telling himself not to rise to the bait didn’t stop the lure from dangling. It seemed like both yesterday and forever since Kell had been in London, and Alucard Emery made it feel all of five minutes.

“It can’t have been that much of a surprise, surely,” Kell said. “You didn’t notice your own ship in the harbor?”

“Not mine anymore,” Alucard answered, and if Kell had expected to hear a note of regret or longing in his voice, it wasn’t there to be found.

Looking over Alucard, Kell had to admit that palace life seemed to suit him. He looked as capable as he had three years ago, but there was a new ease in his broad shoulders; a smoothness over the furrow that had been in his brow.

There were other changes, too. Where once Alucard had worn silver with his midnight blue, now there were touches of gold in his buttons and embroidery. The smart jacket and trousers he wore weren’t the uniform of a palace guard - not even close - but he still carried the suggestion of an official position, and the detail of the gold chalice on clasps and cuffs left no question about whose service he was in.

He was a King’s man now. Rhy’s.

Kell hadn’t changed out of the salt-crusted, slate-gray sailor’s garb he’d worn aboard ship before disembarking. Looking at Alucard now, he felt every inch of grime and dried sweat, as well as the guilty impression that he’d abandoned his post.

For most of his life, Kell had been the one standing between Rhy and danger. It felt strange to have someone else there in his place.

“Are you going to let me in, or just stand there being irritating?”

“Oh, am I irritating you?” Alucard sounded pleased. “I wasn’t even trying.”

“It must come naturally.”

Alucard hadn’t actually answered the question. Kell didn’t know why he should be surprised. If Alucard was here, however, that meant that Rhy must be inside, and not elsewhere on royal business.

Kell was drawing in breath to say more when the door opened from inside the room, and Rhy appeared, sticking his head out into the narrow gap.

“Kell!” Unlike Alucard, who appeared completely at ease, Kell could see the tension in Rhy, though he appeared to have buried it beneath an outwardly cheerful exterior. “I thought you must be here.”

“Because of the raised voices?” Alucard suggested.

“Because there’s a particular flavor of annoyance you get whenever you’re around Alucard. I knew you couldn’t be far. Well, are you coming in? Or are you only here to say hello before you set sail again?”

Kell was taken aback by the hardness in Rhy’s question, but Alucard was looking between them, and found his tongue before Kell could do the same.

“Just how strong is the bond between you two? I thought you only shared pain.”

Kell stared. “You haven’t told him?”

Rhy looked immediately defensive. “I told him _enough_. I didn’t think you’d want him involved in your private business. Was I wrong on that point?”

Lila’s question on the _Night Spire_ rose up in Kell’s mind. “You didn’t think it was relevant?”

Alucard’s puzzled expression suddenly cleared. “ _Sanct_. You don’t mean you can feel _that_.”

Kell wished he had Rhy’s darker skin to hide his blush. Rhy might have been able to hide the color, but his tone, when he answered, suggested he’d been caught just as off-guard. “He was very far away,” Rhy prevaricated.

“He’s not far away _now_.”

“He’s standing _right here_ ,” Kell cut in sharply. “Shall we discuss this sometime when we’re not all standing in a hallway in front of the royal guards?”

Rhy and Alucard looked as one, automatically, to the rows of guards on either side of the hallway, who stood stiff and stared stoically ahead, as if they hadn’t heard a word of the argument.

“I did _tell_ you to come in.” Rhy’s gaze flicked over Kell, and then he said to Alucard, “You’d better stay out here for now. I don’t imagine this conversation will be particularly productive, otherwise.”

“That depends on the subject of conversation,” Alucard muttered darkly, but he stood aside, and Kell was nettled by the warm smile Rhy gave him as a reward.

“Come in, Brother. Have a drink,” Rhy said, and vanished back into his chamber, leaving Kell to follow.

☙

The tension hadn’t gone from Rhy’s body when Kell entered his rooms. If anything, it was more pronounced, his movements choppy and unfocused. “There are glasses over there,” Rhy said lightly, waving a hand toward the cut crystal decanter surrounded by tumblers.

Kell looked at the decanter, but made no move toward it. He could feel Rhy’s agitation, the quick thud of his pulse, but Rhy had moved away from him, further into the room.

“Kell!” Rhy’s voice was still bright, at odds with the mood Kell could feel roiling under the surface. “I hardly recognize you anymore. I quite like the new look. Is this…” Rhy indicated his own jaw, chin jerking toward Kell’s short, neatly-trimmed beard, “for convenience, or to cover up the scar? I remember feeling that one, just here, wasn’t it?”

Rhy tapped the side of his face, right where Kell’s own jaw bore a long white scar, a souvenir from an encounter with pirates.

“You’re angry.”

“Why should I be? You’re home again. Here for the _Essen Tasch_ , I imagine?”

Kell didn’t answer that. Rhy was deflecting, and Kell wouldn’t be so easily put off. “You told me you wanted me to go.”

“I wanted you to _come back_.” Rhy spat the words, finally turning on Kell like a cornered cat, the claws that Kell had been able to feel inside his chest showing at last.

“I have.” Kell hesitated a moment, but he refused to let the guilt win out. “I wrote letters.”

“‘Dear Rhy. We stopped at an island today. Lila caught a fish.’ Yes, what intimate correspondence we’ve shared.”

Kell swallowed. “I was always going to come back.”

“A year, I thought. Perhaps a bit more, depending on the season, and the storms. But this? _Three years_ , Kell.” Rhy was pacing now, shying away every time Kell tried to take a step closer to meet him. “I should have known you’d come back for the _Essen Tasch_. It was too much to hope that you’d come back for your brother. For your king. But for magic? You’ll always come running for that.”

“You never said…”

“You _knew_ ,” Rhy snapped.

Kell had. He’d known the longing he sometimes felt wasn’t true homesickness, but Rhy’s own wish for Kell’s return.

“I could have ordered you, you know. You were on my _my ship_ , flying for the crown. I thought you’d come in your own time, or at least pass through to say hello, but you never did.”

Rhy sounded bitter. Kell took another step forward, and this time Rhy didn’t alter the course of his steps, allowing Kell to close some of the distance.

“I was afraid,” Kell admitted, “that if I returned, you wouldn’t allow me to leave again.”

Rhy’s sharp look this time was wounded, a blow struck that Kell hadn’t intended.

“I was afraid,” Kell amended carefully, “that if I returned, I wouldn’t be able to make myself leave again. And I wasn’t ready yet, to give up the world for London.”

There was a knot of pain in his chest that might have been his, or Rhy’s, or both. Kell took another step forward. Two. He met Rhy on the third, and folded Rhy into an embrace as careful as if he were handling blown glass.

Rhy didn’t return the embrace for a moment; and then he did. His arms came up around Kell’s back to close around him, and they stood there for a moment, neither moving nor speaking.

“Why didn’t you come back?” Rhy’s voice sounded like the child he’d been years ago, back when Kell was always getting him into scrapes and back out of them. A younger brother, lost and bewildered by the absence of the older who’d left him behind.

“I’m sorry,” Kell said.

“The kingdom was a shambles, we were nearly at war, and I thought…” Rhy finally seemed to run out of even the faint coals of his anger, the fire in him dying. His shoulders slumped. “I wanted you here.”

“I know.” Kell could have apologized again, but it wouldn’t have changed anything. And an apology was not, quite, the same as a regret.

Rhy pulled away, setting himself to rights with quick tugs at his clothing, and the brush of a hand to his eyes that Kell pretended not to see. “If you’re here to compete, you should know Tieren has expressly forbidden it this time around. He made sure to tell me before we even knew to expect you back.”

Kell hadn’t been intending to put himself forward again, but he still felt the loss of possibility. He hadn’t done magic in three years; not since he’d left London. There’d been little reason, with Lila on the ship, and Kell had always found himself making some excuse to avoid it. Any excuse to avoid magic--and the bone-deep pain that now came with it. Some part of him had thought the _Essen Tasch_ might give him a purpose to wield it again.

Rhy looked at him sharply, as though he’d felt Kell’s change of mood as well, but he said nothing about it.

“It’s just as well,” Rhy sighed, some of his usual good humor returning. “I doubt I’d be able to convince Castars to playact your part a second time. He was rather disappointed in the reward for his service the last time.”

Kell was reminded that Castars - also known as Kamerov Loste, a part also played by _Kell_ \- had been his brother’s lover before the _Essen Tasch_ , and grimaced. Rhy tutted at his expression but didn’t say more, his eyes distant.

“I have another part for you to play,” Rhy said, gaze fixing on Kell. “If you’re willing.”

Kell raised his eyebrows. “I’m listening.”

“The last time all three kingdoms were represented in this city, we lost a large number of our people, and were threatened by an invasion fleet. Among other things,” Rhy added after a brief pause, and Kell knew they were both thinking of the assassination of Queen Emira, and the attempt on King Maxim.

Rhy clapped his hands, a physical gesture to dispel the dark thoughts. “I believe a show of strength is in order. Arnes is as strong as it has ever been, and we will prove that before the tournament even begins.”

Kell had the unpleasant suspicion that he was about to be put on parade, for the benefit of diplomatic relations and his brother’s throne. He wondered, briefly, if it was too late to escape on the _Night Spire_. He was almost certain that it was. Rhy had probably posted armed guards around the dock as a precaution.

Kell sighed. “What do you want me to do?”

Rhy’s grin, along with the light that danced in his pale gold eyes, was nearly reward enough. “Why, Brother, I thought you’d never ask.”

☙

“Bard,” Alucard said, seeing Lila lingering in the hallway outside the arena. “I was beginning to wonder if Kell had thrown you overboard.”

“He could try,” Lila replied. She straightened at his approach, in a way that suggested she’d either been waiting for him or simply saw a new way to pass the time. “And it’s _Captain_ Bard now.”

She looked it, her hair grown out just enough for a queue at the nape of her neck, the way Alucard often kept his. Her clothes were smart, not nearly as stained as Kell’s had been the day before, and he wondered if they were new. Her boots were the only worn thing about her ensemble; those had seen hard use, cracked and scuffed and entirely practical.

Lila cocked her head at him, studying him through her one eye. The black orb she kept in place of the other seemed to study him as well, independently. It was an eerie effect, even more so than looking at Kell.

“And what should I call you?” Lila asked him. “Not ‘Captain’ anymore.”

“Oh, I think I’ll always be your captain,” Alucard told her warmly. “But no, it’s just Alucard now.”

Lila snorted. “I don’t think you’ll ever be _just_ Alucard. Or _just_ anything.”

Alucard smiled. “Alucard of London, then.”

“Hmm,” said Lila, but she left it there, for now. “I hear there are plans afoot.”

“Yes, though I’m short on details. Rhy wasn’t especially forthcoming.”

They entered the arena together, which Rhy had been fanatical about even before construction, obsessing over every detail. Given what had been done with his arenas following the previous _Essen Tasch_ , Alucard couldn’t blame him.

Now, Alucard saw far more than he’d been expecting. Instead of boulders and sand, the terrain was varied, with ornamental pools and gardens, and even a cave with a small waterfall playing over the entrance. Everywhere Alucard looked, there was life; a stark contrast to the Black Palace that had desecrated Rhy’s earlier triumph.

And at the center, in a small clearing, stood Kell.

Alucard didn’t stop short, but he did hesitate, just enough for it to become obvious when Lila didn’t break stride. Instead of going to Kell, she headed for the cave, and Alucard saw - later than she had - Rhy emerging from the shadows, looking pleased with their surroundings.

“What’s all this, then?” Lila asked, somehow managing to sound as though she didn’t care about the answer.

Rhy spread his hands. “Why, my arena. Do you like it? I’ve spent nearly a year planning it out.”

Alucard inspected a gnarled tree that must have either been transplanted whole or grown by the priests, its center hollowed out, bark sticky with sap. “Are they all like this?”

Rhy left just enough of a pause to let Alucard know he was disappointed in their lack of awe and enthusiasm. “No. This one is special. It will change after the opening ceremonies.”

“What happens at the opening ceremonies?” It was Lila who spoke first, sharp as ever, sensing a catch or a secret. Alucard, who had already promised his involvement, was wondering the same thing.

Rhy smiled, looking rather like Esa when she’d managed to claim some of a fish dinner. “The ceremonial duel, of course.”

Alucard and Kell both stiffened. In that moment, Alucard realized that he wasn’t the only one from whom Rhy had extracted a promise.

“You didn’t think to mention this before?” Alucard asked. “I thought this was to be a solo performance.”

“You didn’t say it included _him_ ,” Kell added.

Rhy rolled his eyes. “Of course I didn’t. I knew you’d both behave like children, and it was far easier to get you here without that little detail. Now, are you going to be difficult about this, or shall we get on with it?”

“I want in,” Lila said abruptly.

“ _No_ ,” said Alucard and Kell together.

She bristled as much as they had, though on Lila the effect was more subtle. “Why not? I’m just as powerful as you are.”

“You don’t have the control,” Alucard ground out, remembering the way she’d nearly overturned the ship more than once, once she and Kell had fallen on each other.

“You cheat,” Kell said more bluntly, which reminded Alucard to revisit the records from the last _Essen Tasch_ , now that he knew who else had been competing in disguise alongside him.

“You’re not _mine_ ,” Rhy overrode them both, with an irritated look. “Unless you’d like to publicly declare yourself an _Antari_ working in service to the crown, which I believe my brother would advise against. Especially if you wish to continue sailing as my privateer.”

“What about Kell?” Lila demanded, not yet backing down even with the others set against her. Alucard could almost hear her calculating that three against one wasn’t the worst odds she’d ever faced.

“Kell is my brother, and a prince of House Maresh. Alucard is…” Rhy paused, as if only just realizing that Alucard didn’t have a similar title. “...my champion,” he finished smoothly.

Kell snorted.

“This is to be a show of strength,” Rhy went on, raising his voice slightly so that it rang out in the arena. “My _Antari_ brother and my personal guard, the victor of the last _Essen Tasch_. Neither of you will compete, to avoid the appearance of a threat, but Arnes _will_ demonstrate that we are not weak, and not to be trifled with. You are capable of that, I hope?”

There were moments, sometimes nearly every day, when Alucard was reminded that Rhy was a king. He wore it so subtly that one could forget, until Rhy chose to remind them.

“We’ll choreograph it, like a dance,” Rhy continued, taking their silence for the assent it was. “A slow build into a dramatic conclusion, using all the elements at your disposal. I’ve filled the arena with tools for you. There will be no spheres to break here, only what’s around you.”

“I have all the elements at my disposal,” Kell jibed, glancing around him. “Alucard is one short.”

“I can use three,” Alucard suggested sweetly. “You can have the leftover.”

“I only need one, to beat you,” Kell said. “Take your pick.”

“Really, are you going to _stay_ this tedious?” Rhy sighed. “I thought we’d work it out together, and see what was the most impressive. It’s not as if Alucard _can’t_ work with fire, after all.”

Kell looked as though he’d swallowed a fish. Alucard wished he weren’t just as startled.

Rhy waved an impatient hand. “What does fire need? What can’t it abide? Air. Water. A smothering in earth. Honestly, you’re the best magicians in the realm, I’d expect you to think of these things.”

“Who wins?” Kell asked suddenly.

Alucard shot a sideways look at him, glad that Kell had brought it up first. “I was rather wondering that myself.”

“ _I_ win,” Rhy bit out. “Arnes wins. We all win. Now do some fucking magic.”

☙

The first steps were tentative ones. Lila scouted the arena, calling down her discoveries from atop small hills or boulders: a thin sheen of oil over one of the pools of water, primed to ignite; a tenacious root that had worked its way through a sheet of stone; a whistling crevice where the air rushed through dry moss and tinder.

The sap on the tree was flammable, which was an unpleasant surprise for Alucard when Kell was the one to discover it, sending tongues of fire racing up from trunk to branches while Alucard had his back turned, and inciting a riot of cursing.

Rhy might not be letting Lila duel, but he had no qualms about her experimenting with the terrain, finding out what could be accomplished and what could be improved on. She wandered back to his side to offer opinions and suggestions while Kell and Alucard circled each other, neither of them doing much more than stir up a vaguely menacing wind.

“How do you manage them?” Lila asked, curious, as Rhy lounged regally on the stone rim of one of the pools. When Rhy looked inquiring, she jerked her head toward the two magicians, who were currently doing far more verbal sniping than magical.

“They weren’t at each other’s throats as much when I was seventeen,” Rhy mused, before he paused and shook his head. “No, that’s not true. They were, I just ignored it. Now I don’t have the luxury.”

Lila studied him. “You look like you’re doing a good enough job of it now.”

Rhy looked amused, rather than insulted. “You think I’m here for my own entertainment? I can assure you, I’d prefer not to be.”

That got Lila’s attention. “You mean this isn’t just a duel for show? You have something else planned? Some other reason for this?”

Rhy pursed his lips, and then lifted a finger to touch against them. There was an enigmatic smile in his eyes.

Lila snorted and went off to scale the wall of vines on the far side of the cave.

In the clearing, Kell and Alucard appeared to finally be making tentative jabs at one another. Nothing more than a gust of leaves, or a sudden spray of blinding rain, easily countered or dismissed, but more than just a light breeze.

Alucard reached for water first, which Kell called predictable before he did the exact same thing. The way Rhy had laid out the elements surrounding them finally seemed to be making an impression, and they were dabbling with new combinations, making use of elements behind and beside their opponent, rather than a controlled and finite handful each, as the competitors would use.

Rhy had been right about Alucard being able to manipulate fire, given the terrain. The first time Kell brandished flames, igniting the sheen of oil on the surface of a pool, Alucard swept a branch through it and dropped the burning wood onto the grass at Kell’s feet.

Rhy made a satisfied noise at that, and Alucard glanced over at him, concentration breaking. Kell could have pressed the advantage, but he only doused the grass fire, overturning clumps of earth to smother the flames.

Kell’s expression was strangely blank, the way it got when he was hiding something. Rhy seemed to be holding himself tense now, jaw tight and expression pained, and Lila wondered if he knew something she didn’t. She didn’t like the idea.

Lila had just decided that if they weren’t going to fight each other, she would give them something else to worry about, when Rhy finally lost patience. Standing up and dusting himself off, he stalked into the clearing where Kell and Alucard had begun feinting half-heartedly with ice daggers, neither of them even appearing to try to score a point.

They didn’t notice him at first; not until it was almost too late, when Rhy walked directly between them, into the path of a dagger twisting toward Kell. Alucard pulled sharply back, and Kell hastily redirected his own blades to avoid a collision, shattering them into the ground as Alucard’s melted into mist.

Rhy glared at each of them in turn. “If you’re not going to take this seriously, then I’m not going to waste my time.” He strode out of the arena, leaving Kell and Alucard faced off against each other, both of them silent.

“The man has a point,” Lila called from where she’d balanced on a narrow footbridge, its ropes soaked with oil.

“The king,” Alucard corrected, jaw tight.

“Whatever,” Lila returned, hopping down from her perch. “I’m going to find something to eat. You can call me if it gets more interesting than this.”

 _Anything_ would be more interesting than this, she thought. But she particularly wanted to know whatever it was that Rhy was keeping a secret. If Kell and Alucard didn’t know, then Lila wanted to be the first to find out.

☙

As it turned out, Rhy found Lila first.

“Delilah.” Rhy was flanked, as always, by his guards, but they were a respectful distance behind him when he reached her. “Will you walk with me?”

She fell into step beside him, not familiar enough with the palace to know where they were headed. “You could call me Captain Bard.”

Rhy made an amused sound. “You should be calling me King Rhy. Let’s call it a truce, shall we?”

Rhy waited until they had reached an empty corridor to speak again, his steps slowing. Lila waited patiently, not inclined to fill the silence with idle chatter.

Rhy glanced back once at the guards behind him, showing a hesitance that Lila had rarely seen in him. It wasn’t in his voice at all when he spoke. “I want a favor.”

“What will you give me?” Lila said at once.

Rhy leveled a look at her. “I believe I gave you a ship.”

“It was the captain’s,” she shot back quickly. “He gave it to me.”

“It was Luc’s _position_ ,” Rhy corrected, amused. “It’s still the crown’s ship. But for the sake of argument: What do you want?”

Lila paused to cover all the possibilities she could think of, but in the end, she stuck with the one she’d already chosen. “I want to know why you’re having Kell duel with the captain.”

Rhy answered with a hum of breath, and a long pause of his own. “Besides the obvious, you mean? I meant it, about us showing our strength. The _Essen Tasch_ will be here because the current champion is from Arnes, as is the only remaining _known_ _Antari_. The two most powerful magicians in three kingdoms, both in London. I want to remind others of that.”

“You mean Vesk,” Lila said.

“I mean everyone.” Rhy looked over at her again, weighing something.

He’d gained more patience since she’d last seen him, she thought. Three years had settled him. She wondered if it was three years with Alucard at his side. Three years without Kell keeping him young and mischievous, the careless rake of a prince. Or perhaps it was only being king.

“I want them to get along.”

It wasn’t nearly the hidden agenda Lila had been expecting, and it took a moment for her to realize that Rhy had just given her the answer she’d asked him for. “Kell and Alucard?” she clarified, just in case she’d missed something.

Rhy’s smile was wry. “Who else? There is a reason for it,” he admitted, gaze and voice both going distant for a moment, “but that one I’m afraid I won’t tell you yet. You’ll find out when Alucard does.”

That only piqued Lila’s curiosity further, but she recognized that he’d given her as much ground as she could take. “What’s the favor?” she asked, tone casual and promising nothing.

Rhy seemed to take the conversational shift in stride. “I’d like to take a short journey on the _Night Spire_. Not far. To the ocean and back, perhaps. Only for an evening.”

Lila stuffed her hands into her pockets and considered this. “It’s your ship.”

He gave her that dry smile again. “Thank you. But I’m aware this is an unusual request, and I’d appreciate the support of the captain.”

“Who else will be on board?” Lila asked.

Rhy’s eyes seemed to dance, and Lila knew she’d hit on the right question. “Myself; Alucard. Kell.”

Lila’s own eyes narrowed, but Rhy appeared disinclined to say more. “All right,” she said, because she could be gracious when it suited her, and Rhy had held up his end of the bargain. “Only for an evening?”

Rhy sighed, suddenly wistful. “I can hardly get away with more.”

Lila thought of Rhy standing on the balcony when they’d set sail, hand raised so that Kell could see him from the deck. Of the letters that Kell had found hard to write, and the responses that had trailed off as the months went on. She knew how it felt to be trapped somewhere. She’d never liked it.

“You should go,” Lila said suddenly. A thought teased at her, fluttering just out of reach like a butterfly until she grasped it. “A Royal Progress. To see your kingdom.”

It took two more paces for her to realize that Rhy had stopped dead in the corridor and was staring at her.

“No one’s done that for hundreds of years. Where did you even hear about it?”

Lila smiled to herself. “You wouldn’t believe me.”

She should have known he’d guess. Lila watched Rhy’s expression as he flicked through her list of known acquaintances, looking for who might be educated enough to know the old stories. Someone who loved books, and history, and was fond of playing tutor.

“Alucard.”

Lila nodded. Rhy made a sound that was so exasperated and impatient, it nearly covered up the clear longing beneath it.

“I can’t leave during the _Essen Tasch_. There are royal balls every night, and the games during the day.”

“Leave after,” Lila said. “Right after. Why not? All the strongest magicians and royal families of Faro and Vesk will be traveling, still within your borders. It will take time for the news to travel, and no one would be prepared to act, even if they wanted to. They won’t make trouble.”

Rhy stared at her. She saw the hope in his eyes, afraid to kindle. It was enough for Lila to play her trump card; the one she’d thought she might mention, if it wouldn’t cause more hurt than healing.

“There are places Kell hasn’t seen yet, you know,” she told him conversationally. “Wonderful places he told me about. The Stasina forests. The cliffs at Astor. The market in Nesto, the one made of glass. I wanted to go, but he always made some excuse. I didn’t know why until he told me about the journey you had planned for the two of you.”

Rhy’s lips parted, but he made no sound for a long moment. “I couldn’t leave,” he said at last. “I’m king.”

“Kell’s still waiting for you,” Lila told him. “And I think you’ve waited long enough. Your people love you in London. Give the rest of Arnes a chance to get to know you.”

There was another pause, and then Rhy inclined his head slightly. “Captain Bard,” he said, with respect, and then his lips curled up into a slight smile. “I wonder if you might do one other favor for me.”

☙

Alucard was lost in his own thoughts when he caught sight of Kell, approaching the entrance to the arena from the opposite direction. He straightened automatically, wincing slightly at the way it pulled on sore ribs.

Rhy had driven them both hard the day before, drilling them endlessly in showy, grandiose maneuvers meant to impress with their power, control, and spectacle. He hadn’t been satisfied with anything short of perfection, and the number of rolls, falls, dodges, and leaps they’d had to make in order to use _all_ of the arena in their display meant that Alucard had woken this morning with every muscle in his body aching in protest.

It was some small comfort to see that Kell looked the same, favoring his left leg and trying to hide it as he approached more cautiously now. “Alucard.”

“Kell.” Alucard could have left it there, or added a jab that would provoke Kell into a response, but instead he found himself saying, “Your brother is a tyrant.”

Kell started to bristle, but Alucard saw the moment his expression shifted, turning rueful. “I didn’t anticipate this,” he admitted. “But I knew what he was like with the arenas, so I should have expected it.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Alucard muttered. “He’s had the architects run ragged since midwinter.”

Kell’s look was narrow-eyed and speculative. Alucard wondered if Kell was entertaining similar thoughts to his own: That if Rhy continued on his current path, they would need each other as allies more than as enemies.

“He still hasn’t told us who will win,” Kell said.

Alucard snorted. “Isn’t it obvious? Rhy. He said as much, that first day. Rhy always wins.”

Kell’s smile was one Alucard had seen directed at Lila, at Rhy, but never at him. It made him look years younger, and something in the expression echoed Rhy’s own unfettered joy. There was never a moment that Kell and Rhy didn’t _act_ like the closest of brothers - much to Alucard’s jealous annoyance - but he rarely saw them look alike.

Kell paused at the entrance, and Alucard watched him visibly brace himself before he walked into the arena, Alucard close behind and feeling much the same. To his surprise, however, the despot who’d been tormenting them was nowhere to be found.

“Hello, boys,” Lila said. Her grin was a knife.

“The king isn’t joining us today?” Alucard hoped he didn’t sound as wary as he felt.

“He delegated,” Lila informed them, tilting her head in the way she’d once done to obscure her impaired sight. Now, it was the shrewd assessment of a cat who’d been given a pair of mice and couldn’t decide which to play with first. “You’re mine today.”

“I don’t suppose that means we can call it off,” Kell suggested, though he was already moving to remove his coat, folding it neatly to set out of the way on a convenient stump.

The stump had been a tree yesterday, at the beginning of their practice. Rhy had decided to see how spectacularly they could cause it to explode. Alucard could still feel the ghost of splinters.

“He can’t be here every moment to keep an eye on you,” Lila said. “He asked me to keep you from killing each other.”

Kell shook his head, and this time Alucard was certain they were thinking along the same lines. In two days of dueling, neither of them had landed a hit. It wasn’t due to reflexes, either; neither of them had tried.

Alucard knew why he hadn’t. What he didn’t know was why _Kell_ hadn’t. Somehow he doubted that he’d find out.

They sized each other up across the clearing, both looking rather pathetically more likely to hobble slowly toward a hot bath than to dance through a duel.

“How shall we begin today?” Alucard asked. “Target practice with boulders?”

“Oh, I have a different idea,” Lila answered, flexing her hands. “Neither of you have been very good at this. It’s my turn.”

Alucard had only just opened his mouth to object when Lila set the footbridge on fire.

She had the ropes free and lashing toward them in the next instant, but guard duty hadn’t slowed Alucard’s reflexes, and privateering hadn’t given Kell the luxury. Alucard flung water from the pond, only realizing his mistake when the oil that slicked the surface hit the fire and it spat and flared. Kell had reached for air first, blasting the ropes with a gust of chilled wind, but air was fuel to living flame, and it roared in the gale.

Alucard was digging up long furrows in the earth to create a bulwark when he realized that Lila’s ropes weren’t merely that: They were vines. Alucard turned them back, wrapping them around Lila while she cursed and the fire burnt out in a rush of smoke and ash.

Alucard might have caught his breath and shouted, then, except that Lila had found a boulder and taken him up on the suggestion of target practice.

Kell reacted first, another enormous rock heaving from the ground and soaring past Alucard, only avoiding hitting him in the back because he flung himself to the grass at the first whistle of displaced air. The two boulders crashed into one another with enough force to shake the arena, debris raining down from the collision, and since Alucard couldn’t yet draw enough breath to curse at them for their insanity, he settled for tearing the waterfall from its track and sending it directly at Kell.

Kell, focused on Lila, nearly didn’t see the attack coming until it was too late to avoid, but he tore up the earth in front of him just in time to create a wall of dirt, which quickly turned to a slick slide of mud before Kell managed to freeze the water in a glittering arc.

Lila had lashed out again by then, with a fireball that Alucard dodged using his hastily-lain earthworks. There was a hail of leaves that shook down from the trees next, and Alucard didn’t know whether it was meant for him or for Lila, but it caught them both, a whirlwind of greenery and twigs slapping and slicing at anything in its path.

Lila shattered the frozen waterfall into razor shards, and Alucard diverted her aim with a distraction, heating the water in the pond and blasting it upward in a boiling geyser. He heard Kell curse beneath the low groan of tortured wood, and then the tree Kell had stripped of its leaves uprooted to come crashing down where Kell had been standing a moment before.

Alucard heard Lila’s laugh ring out overhead, but he didn’t have time to track her location, because Kell was bringing down the entire bloody cave.

By the time the avalanche began, Alucard had wind and water at his fingertips, the roots of his magic plunging into the earth at his feet. Kell had overwhelming power, more than Alucard could ever hope to meet, but Alucard had control, and in an arena, his was the advantage. Kell wouldn’t use bone magic here, and he shifted rapidly through all four elements, taking what he needed. Alucard grasped each element individually, twisting and braiding and _breaking_ , and he could see the dance of Kell’s magic as it played out, identify where each attack would come from just before it did.

He’d lost track of Lila, but that didn’t matter, because Alucard’s entire attention was focused on Kell. It needed to be; Alucard might have trained to use magic like this, but Kell had learned how to fight to the bitter end with everything he had, and Kell had chosen Alucard as his target.

They smashed and flung and shattered everything around them, moving inexorably around the arena in search of more ammunition, more weapons, more tools to use in the battle. They’d completed the circuit before Alucard felt himself flagging; saw Kell stagger on his weakened leg; sensed the sputter of his magic as it exhausted within him.

They were down to throwing fistfuls of pebbles and weak slaps of air when Kell finally lost patience and shouted across the ruined clearing: “Why won’t you fight me, damn you!”

It shocked Alucard into stumbling, and the log he’d been laboriously rolling toward Kell bumped gently to a halt halfway to its mark. He’d thought Kell had _known_ , but Kell sounded as though he was speaking from wounded pride, as though he believed Alucard was being arrogant by pulling his blows, and anger welled up sudden and fierce in Alucard’s chest.

“How can I,” he bellowed in return through aching lungs, “when I know hurting you will hurt _him_?”

“Why do you think I’ve been trying not to engage?” Kell snarled back, swaying on his feet and finally leaning hard against the ruin of a hanging trellis, now reduced to splinters and tangled vines. “But you won’t even _try_!”

Alucard, speechless, spread his hands in wordless reference to the absolute devastation around them.

Kell grimaced. “Not _now_ ,” he said, losing some of the fire in his voice. “Not…”

He staggered again and finally sat down hard, the fight going out of him, and Alucard was so relieved by the cessation of hostilities that he immediately pitched forward onto the ground and narrowly avoided landing on his face.

He rolled onto his back, and thought dimly that if Kell wanted to flatten him right now with a boulder, he was welcome to do so, because Alucard couldn’t muster the effort to prevent it.

“It’s not only the bond,” Alucard told the sky, surprising himself with his honesty. Perhaps he was just too tired and sore to care about personal revelation. “You two have always been closer than anyone else I’ve known. If I hurt you...I could never come between you. I won’t risk losing him.”

The silence stretched until it became unbearable, and Alucard lifted his head at last, with great effort, to find Kell staring at him incredulously.

“You think I have that power? I’ve been gone for three years, and when I come back, it’s to find you here, like you were never gone. My brother’s ever-present shadow.”

Kell’s voice was twisted with bitterness, and Alucard had the distinct impression that Kell’s anger was in part directed at himself, guilt twined with jealousy.

He raised a weary eyebrow, and was irritated to find that even that hurt. “I’d say we’re even, then. We both left for three years. We both came back.”

Kell slumped back onto his elbows, which wobbled at the strain. “You didn’t leave by choice. I thought I’d hate you for that forever, once.”

It was more than Alucard wanted to give him, but he ventured, “You didn’t stay by choice, but you were where I always wanted to be. I’d still say it’s a tie.”

“I still can’t stand you,” Kell sighed, flopping bonelessly onto his back. “Bastard.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” Alucard assured him, though he was distantly appalled to find himself almost smiling.

“You’re both idiots,” said a familiar voice from behind him, and Alucard twisted - painfully - to see Rhy standing at the entrance to the arena, with Lila a slim, black-shrouded shadow at his side. She didn’t have a hair out of place, and Alucard wondered how long she’d actually been in the arena before ducking out to fetch Rhy. He couldn’t remember her for more than the first few minutes of the fight.

Rhy’s voice was crisp ice, but there was a warmth in his amber eyes that made Alucard’s chest ache more than it already did. Rhy’s gaze moved between them, and when it left Kell to settle on Alucard, he felt the heat of that look spread through him, tugging low in his belly.

“Excuse me, Kell,” Rhy said without looking away from Alucard. “I’m just going to borrow Luc.”

☙

Alucard was managing to keep up with Rhy by virtue of a longer stride, but with every joint aching and muscle screaming in protest, it was a near thing. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to go to the baths,” he suggested.

Rhy cast a look over his shoulder that was hot enough to scald. “The baths are on the other side of the palace.”

“They’re nearer than your rooms,” Alucard replied, having a fairly good idea of where this was heading.

“My rooms are _much_ too far away,” Rhy muttered in irritated agreement, casting his eye over each door they passed now as if to weigh its merits as a trysting spot.

“ _Not_ the Grand Hall,” Alucard yelped in alarm when Rhy’s step faltered, and Rhy grimaced before forging on with renewed determination, Alucard cursing as he strained his abused body to match the pace.

Rhy eventually pushed open the door to the comfortable, lavishly-appointed Red Drawing Room, which was used officially for rare state visits, and more often for impromptu meetings when everywhere else had been taken.

“Out!” Rhy demanded, and after a frozen moment of surprise the guards within dispersed, withdrawing to give them the room.

Alucard was comforted by the fact that they clearly misinterpreted the scene, with Rhy impatient and Alucard looking uncharacteristically unkempt, mud spattered liberally over clothes that had been torn, soaked, and even singed in places to ash. They must have thought he was being pulled aside for a dressing-down.

One of the younger guards caught Alucard’s eye as he passed, and grimaced in sympathy. Alucard had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

Rhy shut the door by way of shoving Alucard up against it, and then Rhy’s mouth was on his, fierce and demanding. Alucard caught him around the waist, his hands sliding upward, grasping tight to Rhy’s shoulders for a moment before tangling in Rhy’s hair.

Their bodies pressed together, and Alucard wondered for a wild moment whether Rhy meant for them to finish each other up against the door before Rhy broke away, gasping, and pulled Alucard forward.

They stumbled uncoordinatedly into the room, Rhy cursing into Alucard’s mouth as his hip glanced off a table, both too busy devouring each other to properly steer. Rhy finally tripped backward over the edge of a rug, and they were close enough to an uncomfortable-looking settee that Alucard let gravity take them down, arm curving around Rhy’s back to cushion his fall.

They landed half-on, half-off the settee, and when Rhy groped behind himself to haul them further up he only succeeded in causing a small avalanche of decorative throw pillows over their heads. Alucard quickly gave up on the struggle to conquer the settee and refocused his attention on more positive goals, latching open-mouthed onto Rhy’s throat and feeling the vibration as a groan tore loose. Rhy’s fist clenched in Alucard’s hair and yanked out the burnished metal clasp there, which at this point had relinquished more of its charge than it still held.

“ _Sanct_ ,” Rhy swore, head falling back and hands scrabbling weakly at the slippery upholstery. “You haven’t let go like that in three years. Where have you been keeping _that_?”

Alucard set his teeth over Rhy’s collarbone, and felt the wild rake of nails down the back of his bedraggled coat. “I haven’t needed to,” he reminded Rhy when he’d lifted his head, only far enough to choose a new spot for a lovebite.

“I need you to,” Rhy gasped. “I need you to be who you are, not tamed for my service. Seeing you in there…”

“Rhy,” Alucard growled, his voice rough and wild in his throat. “Everything I am is in your service.”

Rhy shoved at him until they were off the settee and onto the rug, Rhy astride him and their movements more urgent as they tore at each other’s clothes, which was mostly ineffective since they also hadn’t relinquished each other’s mouths to accomplish their goal.

Alucard kicked out and overturned an ottoman, and they became briefly tangled in the spindly legs of an ornamental chair as they struggled together to remove Alucard’s ruined coat.

“Wait,” Alucard gasped as Rhy’s hands fixed with new resolve on the waistband of his trousers. “Your brother.”

Rhy didn’t even pause. “I have no intention of remaining celibate to the end of my days,” he growled, as he yanked the tails of Alucard’s shirt free. “Kell will just have to manage. And I’d really prefer it if you weren’t thinking about my brother.”

“Rhy,” Alucard groaned into the warm, sweet skin of Rhy’s neck, sucking at his pulse. “Rhy,” as his hand tangled again in rich dark curls, as he rolled them both onto their sides together, and then he wasn’t thinking of anyone else at all.

☙

The first of many formal receptions for the _Essen Tasch_ was held in the Gold Hall, which Rhy considered better-omened than the Rose Hall. He was partial to it anyway, to the polished stone and glitter of precious metals; the gilt splendor suited him better than heavy columns or empty glass.

Browns were in fashion this season, which Rhy considered dull, but he’d had his ensemble done in metallic bronze trimmed with gold to suit the fashion. He hoped it gave the hall the impression of being an extension of him, or of his being the crown jewel in its opulent setting. When he told Alucard all of this, Alucard laughed and called him a vain peacock, but his eyes were warm, and the lines around them crinkled in the way that made Rhy’s mouth go dry.

Alucard himself wore a burnished shade of russet that brought out the brassy shine of his loose curls, accented with touches of coral to complement the padparadscha sapphire stick pin Rhy had given him last year for a birthday gift. Rhy admired the effect openly until Alucard chuckled and warned him to mind his guests, and not his guard.

The delegations from Vesk and Faro had arrived that day, so Rhy was kept busy with polite conversation and diplomacy for much of the evening. He saw Kell skulking near a wall in his customary black messenger’s coat, which clashed horribly with absolutely everything and everyone else in attendance, but there was no hope for him.

Rhy was pleased to see Lila there as well, although he hadn’t offered her an invitation, suspecting she’d prefer to wrangle her own way in rather than have him ease the way.

“You’re looking pleased with yourself,” Lila told him as they drifted together in the mingle of guests. “It turned out the way you wanted, then?”

“Close enough,” Rhy replied. His gaze went automatically to Kell, who looked as uncomfortable as ever, making small talk with those few who were bold enough to approach him. “They needed that even more, I think. Sometimes you have to lance the boil before you can heal it.”

“King Rhy the Peacemaker?” Lila suggested, studying him.

Rhy’s lips curved into a slight smile. “It’s better than anything else I’ve been called. _Far_ better, in some cases.”

He tried to catch Kell’s eye across the room, but by the time he’d given up, Lila was gone and Alucard was at his side, offering him a fresh glass of sparkling wine.

“Not that we don’t appreciate the reprieve,” Alucard remarked, “but have the priests been able to repair the arena, while Kell and I have been part of the official greeting committee?”

Rhy feigned a scoff, one that failed with a smile still on his lips. “Don’t be ridiculous. As if I’d let you anywhere near the real arena while you two were bumbling about. That one was for practice, and will be used for the competition. It’s being cleared out. The real one remains pristine, I’m happy to say, unless the two of you have snuck in there somehow while my back was turned.”

“I prefer to be watching your back whenever it’s turned,” Alucard said smoothly.

Rhy gave him a look that was probably more seductive and less warning than he’d intended. Three years, and the man before him still heated his blood and warmed his heart. It felt like falling into a bottomless pit, an endless drop where the fear of being hurt by the landing sometimes lingered, but never materialized.

“I’m not sorry you wrecked that one,” Rhy decided. “It was good for you. Both of you.”

“Are you playing matchmaker?” Alucard asked, sounding amused rather than offended.

“I already told you I’d prefer you not think that way about my brother,” Rhy returned, hiding his smile with a sip of wine.

“You’ve had that connection for a while,” Alucard mused. “Have the two of you shared...things...before?”

“He’s my _brother_.”

“Not by blood.”

“In every way that matters,” Rhy said, finding Kell again across the room, a slender slash of black in a sea of earth tones. He kept his gaze there as he went on, “Just as you’re the other half of my heart, in every way that matters.”

There was a long pause, and Rhy wondered if he’d overstepped, or if the declaration hadn’t even been noted, but he didn’t quite dare to look. Then Alucard replied conversationally, “I used to say I kept my heart inside my cat.”

Rhy did look then, sharp and cutting. “I’m much better-looking than a cat.”

“She’s a very handsome cat,” Alucard returned, stroking his short beard.

“There’s no hope for you,” Rhy told him. “And I’m having that animal evicted from my palace.”

Pointedly ignoring Alucard, Rhy missed any warning gesture before a soft, warm breeze tickled the back of his neck, fluttering against his throat above his collar. Rhy drew in a sharp breath, and the air cooled, sliding like the tip of an icicle down his spine in a delicate line.

“Careful,” he murmured, aware that he’d flushed, although his dark skin and the warmth of the room would forgive quite a few of Alucard’s sins.

Alucard’s breeze played in the narrow space beneath Rhy’s shirt, and he closed his eyes to better feel it, exhaling a long, quiet breath. When frost prickled over his skin a moment later, desire stabbed him low in the gut, and suddenly all Rhy wanted was to be out of this room, and out of these starched, heavy clothes.

When he opened his eyes, Kell was glaring at him.

No. Not at him. At _Alucard_.

One glance sideways confirmed that Alucard knew it, his hands casually tucked away inside his pockets and a broad smile on his face.

“What?” he inquired innocently, seeing Rhy’s expression. “I’m not even touching you.”

“Stop tormenting Kell,” Rhy ordered, exasperated. “I need you two to get along.”

Alucard cocked an eyebrow, sapphire winking in the light. “Oh? And why is that?”

Nerves gripped and twisted Rhy’s insides, and he looked away. “No reason. Excuse me,” he said politely, handing over his half-filled glass. “I’m going to go and have a chat with my brother.”

☙

The door to the library opening and closing hardly made a sound, but Kell had been on board a ship with Delilah Bard for three years. It might as well have slammed shut. He knew it was Rhy even before the quiet, familiar, “ _Avan_.”

“ _Avan_ ,” Kell returned. He didn’t turn around, but then Rhy had never needed an invitation where Kell was concerned. Kell heard him cross the room in a whisper of expensive fabric, and then Rhy’s arm draped over his shoulders.

It wasn’t their usual pose, and Kell wasn’t entirely surprised to hear Rhy complain, “You’ve always been taller than I am. I always thought that was unfair, for you to have magic _and_ height.”

“It never helped me when we were wrestling,” Kell pointed out. “You’re as stubborn as a mule.”

“If you’re working around to calling me ‘stout’, I should remind you that I’m king now, and I don’t get into trouble anymore for breaking furniture in the library while putting my brother into a headlock.”

Kell startled himself by laughing, and the movement turned his head just enough to see Rhy’s small, pleased smile.

They lapsed for a moment into silence, and then Rhy asked lightly, “Have you forgiven me for yesterday, then?”

Kell tensed, but Rhy had given him no room to escape. Kell wasn’t even sure that he wanted it. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Rhy’s arm dropped from his shoulders, but only so that he could turn and face Kell directly. “I hurt you.”

Kell’s chest ached again in remembered pain. “That wasn’t you.”

Rhy took Kell’s hand in his and turned it over, palm up. Kell wondered if he was remembering the time that he’d seen Kell bleeding out his life for him, wrists slashed and clothes stained, or if it was some other shadow of the past over Rhy’s eyes.

“Wasn’t it? You told me what using magic does to you, and I felt it myself, as soon as you began in the arena.”

“You asked me,” Kell said, and heard the bitterness in his own voice. “I said yes.”

“I thought you needed to do it.” There was a pause, and then Rhy said, “You haven’t used magic since you left London three years ago.”

Kell would have denied it, but there was no point. Rhy wasn’t only guessing; he knew.

Kell pulled his hand away. Rhy let him go. “I was on a ship.”

“Not all the time, or I wouldn’t have received so many annoying notes.” Rhy’s tone was one of mild irritation, but his expression was inscrutable. After a moment, he said, “I didn’t know if you would. I thought if anyone could goad you into it, it would be Alucard.”

Kell’s mouth twisted. “You wanted to know that I wouldn’t hesitate, if magic was necessary. That I wouldn’t falter.”

“No,” Rhy answered simply. “I wanted _you_ to know.”

Kell’s chest hurt, a different pain entirely from the ugly, piercing agony of using magic. It was grief for what he’d lost, for the pure and easy joy of commanding everything in nature around him; of channeling magic as easily as breathing. He hadn’t let himself fully absorb the loss, but he felt it now, the hollow ache of what he’d been forced to leave behind.

“You went away to find out who you were without magic,” Rhy went on, unrelenting. “It’s time you let yourself be everything you are again.”

“You wouldn’t know,” Kell told him sharply, and regretted it at once. Rhy carried his own pain, where magic was concerned; not grief for something lost, but an endless longing for something that had never been his.

Rhy’s hand pressed squarely over Kell’s chest, above his heart and the mark that bound their lives together. “I know.”

Kell’s breath shuddered out of him, along with a laugh that felt like something tearing loose. “You never make things easy, do you?”

Rhy’s smile returned, the sweet and charming expression that had won him the hearts of nearly everyone in London. “I haven’t even asked you for the real favor yet.”

Kell’s laughter choked off as he turned wary. “What favor?”

Rhy pursed his lips, hesitating for a long moment before he answered. “A brother’s blessing.”

Kell’s shoulders relaxed as quickly as they’d tensed, relief flooding over him. “Is that all? No impossible feats of magic? No errands run to other Londons?”

Rhy cocked his head and smiled again. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I never know what’s enough, with you,” Kell muttered. He paused. “I suppose I should ask what I’m giving my blessing to.”

“Probably,” Rhy agreed. “Will you be leaving again, after the _Essen Tasch_?”

The change of subject threw Kell, but only briefly. It was a question he’d been asking himself, nearly since his first night in the palace.

 _The king needs his brother_ , he remembered Rhy saying, before Kell had left London and failed to come back.

“I won’t,” Kell said slowly, “if you want me to stay.”

“If you want to go, you should go,” Rhy replied. “I’m sure you haven’t seen everything yet.”

Kell thought of the ports he’d avoided; the passages marked on a map in his own mind, drawn in Rhy’s hand. Places he’d saved for future journeys, unwilling to see them without his brother at his side.

“Come with me,” Kell said impulsively, squaring his shoulders to face Rhy.

He’d expected an argument, or a denial; not the slow, creeping warmth of Rhy’s smile.

“Do you know,” Rhy said thoughtfully, “I thought I might.”

☙

The _Night Spire_ left London with the evening tide, just one day after the final celebrations of the _Essen Tasch_. Alucard Emery stood at the bow of what had once been his ship, and breathed in the salt air of the open sea.

It wasn’t as hard as he’d expected, being back on board as a passenger, rather than captain. It helped that this wasn’t his crew; they were all Lila’s, and none of them had known him as anything but the king’s personal guard, even if they’d heard of his reputation as a privateer.

It helped as well that he had shed that life without looking back, once Rhy had offered him something else, something better, to take its place. He wouldn’t trade places with the Alucard Emery he’d been three years ago for anything, when it would mean giving up the man - the king - at his side.

“Gold and silver for your thoughts,” that same king said now, and Alucard turned to see Rhy somehow managing to affect a careless, offhand pose, even on the rocking wooden planks.

Rhy was the only one of them who’d never had to find his sea legs, but he’d covered it well so far. Alucard had seen him weighing the constant sway of the boat, watching the rest of them shift automatically with the waves, and choosing his moment to cross the deck so that he didn’t stagger.

Alucard drank in the sight of him, bright and brilliant in the fading light. “None worth mentioning,” he answered. “Though looking at you, I might just have forgotten them all.”

Rhy’s smile teased at the corners of his mouth. “No regrets?”

Alucard shook his head. “None.”

Rhy’s smile faded gradually, and he gazed at Alucard in silence for long enough that Alucard nearly broke it to ask what the matter was. It was a moment that nearly didn’t feel real--Rhy on the _Night Spire_ , the horizon behind him painted by the setting sun, and the sea stretching out around them as far as the eye could see. He wondered if Rhy felt that way, too; if he couldn’t believe they’d really left London.

A year at sea, showing Rhy all of the far-flung places that Alucard had told him about in stories, and watching Rhy learn to love the ship as Alucard did. As Lila and Kell did. Alucard felt as though he’d been given a gift that he hadn’t thought to ask for.

Rhy looked back over his shoulder, and Alucard heard Lila - Captain Bard, here - bark out, “Clear the deck!”

Alucard straightened from the rail and turned around to watch the crew abandon their evening tasks and disappear below. In a matter of minutes, the only ones left on deck were himself, Rhy, Lila, Kell, and the most trusted of Rhy’s royal guards. It was unusually quiet without the bustle of sailors at work; a background noise Alucard was accustomed to tuning out, along with the low creak and groan of the ship itself.

“Should I be worried that you’re about to throw me overboard?” Alucard asked, only half-joking.

Rhy had returned to staring at him, as though he wanted to memorize the sight. “I imagined what you must have looked like at sea, sometimes,” he said a moment later. “I never thought to picture the way sunset would turn your hair to fire.”

Alucard chuckled. “You’re a romantic.”

“You knew that already.” Rhy looked away, swallowing, and Alucard realized suddenly that Rhy’s casual posturing was to cover nervousness.

“Rhy.” Alucard took a step closer, hands uselessly at his sides, but he didn’t know what to ask.

Rhy cleared his throat and lifted his chin. “Alucard Emery,” he said suddenly, and his voice rang clear without his raising it, easily heard even above the ever-present crash of the sea against the hull. “You forfeited your claim to the Emery name, title, and estate three years ago, after you returned to London. I’d like…” His voice faltered slightly, then steeled. “I’d like to offer you another name, to take its place. That of House Maresh.”

Alucard blinked. It was true that he’d cast off House Emery, but he was still treated as a noble by everyone at the palace, albeit one with an unusual and slightly checkered past. A title wasn’t anything he was lacking, unless Rhy had some new post in mind for him.

Rhy had produced a small box, which he nearly fumbled in opening and had to hastily catch. When he presented its contents, Alucard saw a gold ring of House Maresh nestled in velvet. It reminded him of the silver feather of House Emery, which he’d cast aside into a shrub at his family’s estate, and at the same time it was nothing alike.

“If you adopt me into your family,” Alucard asked unsteadily, trying to mask his uncertainty with a joke, “will that make us brothers?”

“Certainly not,” Rhy said at once, making a face that tugged at Alucard’s chest. Then he added, “It makes Kell your brother.”

Alucard looked up, unbidden, and saw Kell watching from the rail nearby. He didn’t look surprised, or curious about what was happening. He must have already known.

As if hearing his thoughts, Rhy continued, “He’s already given his blessing, and he’s the only family I have left, so you’ll just have to get used to each other.”

With a shock like a slap of cold water, Alucard finally realized what was happening.

“Not your only family,” Alucard said roughly, reaching out to take the ring. It was cold and heavy, but warmed quickly in his hand, and the gold gleamed as it caught the colors of the sunset, red and violet and vivid pink. “Rhy, are you asking me to marry you?”

“Not officially, of course,” Rhy hedged, his eyes darting away again. The nervous tension was still in his voice when he looked back at Alucard and admitted, “Unofficially...I could order you to say yes, if necessary.”

Alucard chuckled as he slid the ring onto his finger. It had already matched the temperature of his skin, and the weight of it felt solid and grounding, not heavy at all.

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Alucard hesitated, then said, “I have nothing to give you.”

He’d never had reason to regret it before, giving up his family’s fortune and position. Now, empty-handed before a king, he was reconsidering.

“You’ve given me everything,” Rhy said. He closed the empty velvet box and stowed it away inside a pocket, shifting his weight. “I know it’s not much of a wedding, but at least we’ll have a year at sea for our honeymoon. I was going to wait for our anniversary, but Bard convinced me I’d better take advantage of the glorious sunset, because we might have a week of storms once we’re further out at sea. She also thinks I might get seasick, although I feel perfectly…”

Alucard cut him off rather abruptly with a kiss.

When they broke apart, Rhy licked his lips. “Was that a yes?”

Alucard brought his hand to Rhy’s cheek. His voice felt raw, flayed open. “I lied, when I said that I kept my heart inside the cat. A pirate never tells anyone where they’ve buried their treasure.”

“Pirate?” Rhy echoed, arching a brow. “I thought you were a privateer.”

Alucard’s chest felt too tight to hold everything he held inside it. “I’ll just have to trust the crown to keep it safe, then.”

Rhy’s lips twitched, fighting a smile. “I think I can manage that.” His hand came up to cover Alucard’s. “Happy anniversary.”

Alucard’s smile grew to match Rhy’s, then bloomed over it. “Which one is this?”

“The third,” Rhy said at once. “I restarted the count.”

“You’ll have to start counting again,” Alucard told him, and sealed the promise with a kiss.


End file.
